


Hidden Talents

by PixeledPurple



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dancing, Don’t Lie to Jazz, Established Relationship, Following Someone, I am the First One to Use That Tag Within the Transformers Tag, I checked, Insecure Prowl is Insecure, Inspired by Art, It’s Not Stalking I Promise, Jazz Being Sneaky, Jazz Thinks Prowl is the Sexiest Thing Ever, Kissing, Living Together, Rhythmic dance, Ribbon Dance, Sappy Sweet Fluff, Secrets, no really, spoilers in the tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:15:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26311009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixeledPurple/pseuds/PixeledPurple
Summary: Jazz finds out Prowl has been lying about how he spends his Wednesday nights so he decides to follow him.  The answer is better than anything he could have ever imagined.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Comments: 12
Kudos: 60





	Hidden Talents

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a lovely artist on Tumblr [Vodid](https://vodid.tumblr.com). Please go check out her [beautiful work](https://vodid.tumblr.com/post/628298331770273792/praxian-dancing-but-make-it-ribbon) that inspired this. In case you headed that 'spoilers in the tags' tag, the art work in that link is also a spoiler. Written with permission from the artist to use her work as inspiration.
> 
> Also, this was supposed to be a ficlet. I was even thinking of putting it in my drabble collection. [Looks at word count] Oops?

Jazz drummed his fingers on his drink as he stared at Prowl. He would have confronted him last night, except he didn’t get home until after 3. He had debated waking Prowl up, but had decided it could wait. Prowl didn’t seem to have noticed that he was staring at him yet. "So," he said, casually. "Where were ya last night."

"I had to work late," Prowl said.

If Jazz didn’t know better, he would have had no idea he was lying, "Really?"

Prowl looked up from his datapad, "Of course. I work late every Wednesday night."

"So you’ve said."

"Jazz?"

"I stopped by the precinct last night," Jazz watched him closely for any reaction. He saw none. No slight twitch, no brightening of the optics, no stiffening cables, pit, even his doorwings didn’t give any indication that he had been caught off guard.

"I was on patrol most of the night."

"That’s what I figured."

Prowl looked at him for just a moment longer before going back to whatever he was doing on his datapad.

"Except," Jazz deliberately paused, reaching into his subspace.

This time, Prowl did freeze up. If Jazz hadn’t been studying him so closely, he wouldn’t have seen it, the way his neck cables tensed, the way his doorwings flared out just an inch before he locked them in place, aborting the movement.

Jazz pulled a datapad charger out of his subspace, placing it on the table between them. "Y’re coworker asked me to give this back to ya. Didn’t wan’t y’re 'pad to die overnight."

"Thank you," Prowl said, reaching out to take the charger. "This is actually a spare I keep in the office."

"Prowl," Jazz prompted when he didn’t continue.

"Yes?"

"Do ya really think I’m gonna forget the point of this little conversation so easy? Where were ya last night?"

"I was on patrol Jazz. Chase’s shift ended before mine. He likely gave it back to you because he thought I would be more likely to get it than if he left it on my desk," Prowl said, taking a sip from his own cube.

This time, Jazz could see the tells that Prowl was lying, the forced casualness in his tone, the lack of optic contact, the minute movements in his doorwings he couldn’t quite hide, the casual drink to have something to do other than stare at him awkwardly. "Riiiight," Jazz drew out the word, making it clear he wasn’t buying it.

"I will be sure to thank him for returning it. Although I really should be getting to the precinct," Prowl finished his cube far too quickly and walked over to put it in the sink. Jazz watched him silently. "Have a good cycle Jazz, I will see you tonight," he said, obviously doing his best to make it look like he wasn’t hurrying out the door.

When did Prowl get to be such a good liar? Jazz wondered, still staring at the door well after it had clicked shut behind him. He wasn’t though, Jazz took a sip of his own cube. Prowl had completely lost his composure as soon as Jazz caught him of guard. But before that…

Prowl been 'working late' every Wednesday since Jazz had known him. He had never questioned it. Not once. And that was saying something. Jazz questioned everything. He didn’t think Prowl was cheating on him. Prowl wasn’t the sort. And besides, it had been going on for way too long.

If Prowl had told him that he needed time for himself, or had asked for privacy, jazz could respect that. Probably. But he had lied, and continued to lie after being caught. That, Jazz couldn’t overlook. He wasn’t necessarily mad, exactly. He would wait until he found out exactly what Prowl was lying about to decide if he was mad.

***

Jazz didn’t bring it up again. He didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. They still went out on Friday like they had planned, he didn’t show up at the precinct unexpectedly, he made jokes, and tried to convince Prowl to watch movies he knew the other would hate.

Prowl acted normally as well. He had been nervous when he came home from work on Thursday, but relaxed when Jazz hadn’t brought up the other night.

But now it was Wednesday again. And Prowl was jumpy.

Jazz had worked late again, and it was completely reasonable for him to still be recharging as Prowl got ready for work. He pretended to still be offline as he followed Prowl’s progress, listening to the little sounds he made as he tried to be quiet, moving around the room. Prowl had a very predictable routine, so when heard him twist off the lid on his favourite tub of polish, he rolled over lazily, "Mornin’ Prowler."

Prowl froze, clearly hoping Jazz wouldn’t wake up before he left, "Good morning Jazz."

"Didn’t wake ya when I came in last night, did I?"

"No, not at all. Was it very late?"

"Yea," Jazz hadn’t bothered sitting up. "Almost 3. Big crowd for a Tuesday," he said, deliberately slipping the day in.

Prowl didn’t say anything but Jazz could see his fingers moved quicker than normal as he touched up some scuffs in his paint.

"I should be home earlier tonight," Jazz said as he stretched. "Maybe we could watch a movie if y’re still up."

"I- Yes, that would be fine." Prowl put away the polish, standing to leave.

"Y’ll be workin’ late again tonight then?"

Prowl froze halfway to the door, turning to look at Jazz. Clearly Prowl’s hidden talent for lies wasn’t at it’s peak this early in the morning. Jazz flashed him a small smile, nothing telling, just an innocent smile at his lover.

"Yes, the same as I do every Wednesday."

Still lying then. Jazz had half expected Prowl to cancel whatever plans he had. Of course, he still could have. It was possible that when he followed him later, he really would just be working late having anticipated Jazz’s plans.

"What time do you think you will be home?" Prowl asked, "I can have something prepared for you if you like."

Jazz’s smile widened, that was sweet. Or it would have been, if Prowl wasn’t obviously probing him for information. "That’s sweet Prowler! I’m scheduled till 10, so sometime after that. I’ll let 'em know I can’t stay late if y’re gonna wait up for me."

Prowl nodded, "That would be nice. I will pick up something on my way home tonight."

"Love ya Prowler," Jazz purred.

"I love you too Jazz."

Jazz almost felt guilty. Almost. But Prowl was the one lying here. He just wanted to know. If it turned out Prowl was sitting alone in a library somewhere reading horrible romance novels that he would sooner die than admit he enjoyed, Jazz would forget this whole thing ever happened and cuddle on the couch with him and accept that Prowl just 'worked late' on Wednesdays. But Jazz was nosey. It was just in his nature, and right now, he had a list a mile long of what Prowl could be doing on Wednesday nights. He had to know.

As soon as he heard the front door click shut, he sprung out of the berth. He listened at the berthroom door for a moment to make sure Prowl had actually left instead of just setting him up. But Prowl wasn’t that suspicious. He was calculating, for sure, and Jazz was positive he would expect something. But Prowl didn’t think the same way Jazz did. And unlike Prowl, he had covered every possible hole in _his_ cover story.

Satisfied the coast was clear, Jazz strolled out of the berthroom, heading for the energon dispenser before even looking around. Prowl was definitely gone. Based on what Chase had said to him last week, Prowl had been at work earlier that day, but he had left at the end of his regular shift, not three joors later like he had told Jazz.

So Jazz took his time. He finished his cube, checked his messages, and touched up his own polish before heading out. He was half way to the precinct when he got a comm from his coworker. *Hey Smokey, what’s up?*

*Though you’d like to know, Prowl commed.*

*Yea? What’d ya tell him?*

*Just what you said. You’re in from three to ten today.*

*Perfect. He’s prob’ly gonna comm again after I’m suppose’ta be there, just patch anyone askin’ for me through, k?*

*Sure Jazz. Can I ask what all this secrecy’s about though?*

*Just personal stuff. And don’t worry, he started it.*

Smokescreen sent a 'whatever' glyph before signing off. Jazz smirked to himself, unlike Prowl he knew how to secure an alibi.

He turned off a couple blocks from the precinct and took back roads to get a closer view. Prowl’s desk was on the second floor, not near any windows, but Jazz had been in the station enough times to know exactly which windows Prowl would have to walk past to get to the stairs, the break room, his sergeant’s office, pretty much anywhere, really.

It was only a few breems before he saw him, just where he was supposed to be. Good. If he was honest, he wanted to spend the day right here, watching him, but spying all day on a police station wasn’t exactly a good idea. Jazz transformed, heading back the way he had come. He would check back later, to make sure the other was still here.

He should probably go home and recharge longer. He’d only had about 4 joors when Prowl had gotten up. But he was too amped up to recharge. He drove around the city, running errands, doing some shopping, grabbed a cube at his favourite cafe in the area, visited a couple friends on a whim. Every few joors he would stop at various spots in view of the precinct, each time waiting to catch a glimpse of Prowl. He was there all cycle so far, nothing out of the ordinary.

At joor 4, Jazz drove back to the precinct, ducking into that same alleyway from this morning. It had the best view of the building, and the best cover.

Half a joor later, he received another comm from Smokescreen, *Hey Jazz, mech commed the club askin’ for ya. No ident.*

Jazz grinned. _Smart, Prowler_ , he thought. *Put him through.* The comm clicked through a second signal. *Go for Jazz!* He said smoothly. There was no answer. *Uh, we got a bad signal or something mech, ya wanna make a reservation?* Still no answer. *Sorry mech, I gotcha on the line, but nothin’s comin’ through. Comm again in a minute or ya can catch me on my private line if this ain’t business.* Jazz terminated the comm, still watching the precinct carefully.

It was just 2 kliks later that he saw Prowl walk past towards the stairs. He checked his chronometer, Prowl was definitely leaving early. Jazz waited. And he waited more. He was starting to wonder if Prowl had slipped out the back when he finally saw him leave the station. Prowl looked around, as if checking to see if he was being watched. Jazz dimmed his visor all the way. From this distance, there was no way Prowl could see him, but better to take extra precautions. Especially if the mech was on the lookout for anything Jazz-shaped.

Prowl transformed, driving towards their shared apartment. Jazz waited a klik before following. There was enough traffic that he was confident he could avoid being spotted. He would have planted a tracker on Prowl, but he knew there was a scanner to pick up on things like that at the station, so he had to follow him the old fashioned way.

Jazz was starting to think Prowl was just going home when he surprised him by turning off onto the freeway. Jazz sped up, taking surface streets another mile down to avoid being spotted. It was a risk, but Jazz knew that Prowl would slow down to monitor the onramp if he thought he was being followed. He wouldn’t bother monitoring the next one.

His planning paid off as he spotted Prowl just a hundred meters ahead of him as he got on the onramp. He was in the far left lane, which meant he either had a long ways to go, or he was taking the Praxus Loop, which was a left hand exit. Knowing Prowl, he would have to be going at least 20 miles to get over more than two lanes, so the it had to be the Loop.

Jazz tried to figure out where he could possibly be going, but his processor drew a blank. There where few times that he wished he could analyze things like Prowl. Trying to figure Prowl out, was ironically one of them.

Keeping at least three cars between them, Jazz followed Prowl onto the Praxus Loop, and another five miles until he saw him signaling to exit. Jazz slowed down to well bellow the speed limits, much to the annoyance of the vehicles behind him. But as much as the onramp was one of the best places to get spotted when following someone, the offramp was even better, since your target got to stop at the top and take a nice long look at everyone behind them.

Going another mile was also out of the question since Jazz would have no way of knowing which way Prowl had gone. Jazz pulled onto the offramp following closely behind a convoy. He had gotten lucky with that one. Unfortunately, it meant he couldn’t see exactly where Prowl went. He kept to the middle lane, keeping a close optic on both sides of the traffic when the light changed.

He saw Prowl turn right, and quickly slipped into the right lane to avoid getting caught behind a red light on what he was sure would be a long, slow turn for the convoy. Prowl turned left at the next light, then right into a smaller street. Jazz didn’t know this area very well, but pulling up a map, he knew he would be spotted if he followed, so he instead pulled into another side street just before the one Prowl had turned into. The two ran parallel, opening to several driveways before linking up half a mile ahead.

Jazz sped down the empty street, pulling into a driveway near the end that opened to both streets. He pulled out on the other side, just enough to get a good view of the street, making sure to keep himself concealed behind a sign. He was just in time to see Prowl pull into another driveway. Jazz followed slowly, making sure he wouldn’t be spotted before he could see which door the other went into. Lucky for him, the area, like much of Praxus, was deigned for aesthetics, so there was plenty of cover to keep him out of site.

Jazz pulled up just in time to see Prowl walk through a door. He opted to wait a few kliks just to make sure it wasn’t a trap. He took the time to search the address. It was listed as the Blue Quartz Gymnasium. That was odd.

Jazz knew for a fact that there was a training facility at the precinct. Maybe Prowl was in a cube league that met Wednesday nights? But why would he keep that secret?

When he was sure Prowl was planning on staying in the gym, whatever he may be doing in there, Jazz rolled up the the door and transformed. He hesitated for a moment outside the door, wondering if he should actually be spying on Prowl. But at this point, he was too curious not to.

"Hello!" a cheery blue bot said from behind the counter as soon as he opened the door.

"Hi," Jazz gave her a smile, trying not to be awkward. He was better at it than Prowl anyway, but he really had no idea what he was doing here.

"I definitely haven’t seen you here before. Are you looking to sign up for classes or are you here for the competition?"

"The competition?"

"Oh great! The main entrance for guests is actually around the other side. This area is for our students and performers only," she told him, apparently not noticing it had been a question. "Do you need directions?"

"Yeah, that’s be great," Jazz said easily. He wasn’t sure it had been the right answer, but blending in with a crowd of spectators was always a good way to avoid being spotted. And if Prowl wasn’t in this 'competition’ he could always come back tomorrow to get more information.

He followed the instructions he had been given, driving back out to the main street and around the building to the other side. The main entrance had a massive sign for Blue Quartz Gymnasium. Jazz glanced over some of the posters along the walls. They advertised everything from basketrek games to cube, to ballroom dance competitions.

Jazz chuckled at the idea of Prowl ballroom dancing as he went inside.

There were two mechs behind the counter carrying on a conversation and looking rather bored. One nudged the other as he noticed Jazz. "Oh hi!" the other said, taking on a more professional stance. "Welcome to the Blue Quartz Gym. Are you a member or looking to join today? We also offer day passes," he added belatedly, as if he had forgotten part of the speech he was supposed to give bots who walked in.

"I’m actually lookin’ to watch the competition," Jazz said, hoping there was only one event scheduled for tonight, since he still didn’t know what kind of competition it was he was going to see.

"Oh! Right! That’s great!" the other mech said, jumping up to access the computer. "You’re a bit early, it doesn’t start for half an joor yet, but you’re welcome to go in if you want. It’s 8 shanix."

Ok, so it clearly wasn’t a very popular event it if only cost 8 shanix. Jazz paid, taking the already torn ticket stub they gave him and walked in the direction he was given through a set of large doors. Inside it was a fairly standard open gym. One set of bleachers had been pulled out and there was a handful of mechs in the stands. Jazz frowned a bit, so much for getting lost in the crowd. He moved to the side of the bleachers to wait in the shadows until they hopefully filled out more.

In the meantime, he looked around the room. There was what was clearly a judges table below the bleachers, a very bored looking photographer standing next to one of them, talking, and a handful of small trophies were lined up on a table along the back wall. The gym floor itself was lined with mats, marked off with coloured tape in various areas.

Jazz honestly could not figure out what was going to happen here. His first thought was a martial arts competition. But he had participated in plenty of those, and the layout here seemed off for that. Besides, martial arts usually drew more of a crowd. He scanned some event feeds he followed to see if he could find anything else going on tonight that might draw the crowds away from… whatever this was. But he found nothing. It was still early, he supposed, the stands could fill out.

Of course, Jazz could always go up to anyone here, or even back to the front desk to ask what type of competition this was, but that would ruin the fun of it. He ran through several more possibilities as he waited for the event to start: dance, wrestling, a transforming competition… Nothing really seemed like Prowl’s kind of thing. Martial arts still seemed the most likely, but he had spared with Prowl more than once. The mech was ok, but he sincerely doubted he would qualify for a competition. Perhaps Prowl had been there for another reason. Maybe he had just been taking a class and it happened to coincide with this event.

Oh well, Jazz thought. He had already paid to see this, so he might as well stick around. He would probably get more answers anyway if he came back tomorrow as a prospective student.

"Our first contestant for hoop, Twostep," a voice said over the speakers.

Jazz blinked, that was certainly an unceremonious way to start a competition of any sort. He glanced up at the stands, maybe three other bots had walked in since he had. There where less than two dozen mechs scattered throughout the bleachers.

Since no one seemed to care if he stayed where he was, Jazz stayed in the shadows. He doubted Prowl was here, but just in case, the last thing he needed was for him to spot him and loose the competition because he got distracted.

A graceful bot, clearly a racerframe walked out onto the floor holding large ring. He gave a quick bow in the general direction of the stands and judges, place the hoop on the ground, and stepped in the middle, striking a pose. A moment later, music started up through the speakers. Jazz grimaced involuntarily, there was nothing wrong with the song itself, but the quality was tinny and staticky, over amplified to be heard in a space larger than the device playing it was designed for, broadcast over speakers that were designed for announcements, not music.

The bot started to dance. Jazz watched, pushing his distain for the quality of the music aside to focus on Twostep. So it was a rhythmic dance competition. Ok, he would never have guessed that one. Assuming Twostep’s routine was designed for achieving the best marks, which was a safe bet, the competition definitely focused most on the artistic side of the sport.

Deciding that yeah, Prowl was definitely not a competitor here, Jazz climbed up the few steps to sit n the bleachers. There were certainly worse ways to spend a Wednesday night after all. And these bots needed all the support they could get.

The routines varied throughout the night. There were five mechs who did a hoop routine, then they moved on to the clubs. Jazz was surprised to find that he mostly agreed with the judges. He had almost no experience with rhythmic dance, but he certainly knew how to move, and he was glad that the judges seemed to be basing their decisions on skill and execution, and not taking off points for absurd violations as seemed to be the case far too often with these sorts of things.

Jazz found himself wishing Prowl _was_ here as the last of the last of the club competitors, a bot named Spin-off, left the floor. So far, all the performers he had seen had been incredibly talented, and the idea of seeing Prowl move like that-

"Our first competitor on ribbon, Prowl."

Jazz blinked. Had he just… Jazz actually fell out of his seat and down the steps as a black and white Praxian entered the gym. A couple of the spectators closest to him glanced over, but otherwise, no one noticed.

Jazz stood up, making sure he kept to the shadows as he saw that, yes, that really was Prowl. He was definitely more polished than he had been when he left their apartment that morning, his paint practically glowing under the lights. Funny how that thought hadn’t occurred to Jazz with any of the previous contestants.

He watched as Prowl took the same small bow as the others, then placed something on the floor. He turned away from the judges, standing with one arm in the air.

Then the music started, and Jazz was mesmerized.

Prowl tipped down, one leg lifting high into the air, straight as an arrow as he reached down to the floor. As he stood upright, a yellow ribbon followed him like a strand of silken gold. He turned, the ribbon encircling his frame in loops before turning out, and leaping across the floor, into a tumble, and standing up perfectly, in a smooth, fluid motion Jazz would have never thought Prowl capable of. All somehow, without getting tangled in the ribbon swirling around him like an extension of himself.

Prowl threw the ribbon in the air, spinning around, and catching the other end. With a leap, and another spin, he gave the ribbon a sharp tug, drawing the handle back to him before it could hit the ground.

He flew across the floor, spinning, twirling, and leaping gracefully in the air, the ribbon, the whole time trailing behind him, never touching the floor. He twisted his hips as he threw one leg in the air in an illusion, tossing the ribbon high in the air as he came up, spinning around once, twice, three times before catching it, and seamlessly dipping into another illusion.

He snapped back the ribbon, _somehow_ managing to catch the very end before tipping backwards into a perfect backbend, lying it gracefully on the floor. He stayed like that for just a moment before standing, ribbon following his hand over his head and then around his frame as he spun around the floor. It flowed like liquid gold over invisible hills and valleys, encircling his frame, cascading like a waterfall and defying gravity as it rose again.

Prowl threw his ribbon up in the air, with a flick of his wrist, then, with one last twirl, struck a pose, one hand held high in the air, the other stretched out before him. He made it look effortless as he caught the ribbon without moving an inch and let the ribbon cascade slowly around him, draping over his other arm just as the music stopped.

The crowd gave polite applause as they had for the other contestants, and Prowl again gave a small bow before walking off the floor to await his score.

Jazz, however, was still frozen in place. He literally could not believe he had just seen Prowl performing the most beautiful dance he had ever seen. Prowl. His Prowl. His serious, calculating, all-work-and-no-play-unless-Jazz-dragged-him-out-somewhere Prowl. The same Prowl who Jazz had to bribe into dancing with him.

Jazz nearly walked across the floor to tell him just amazing that had been when the announcer started reading off the scores. Realizing that however woefully small the crowd may be, it would still likely embarrass Prowl if he did that. So Jazz slipped under the bleachers, making his way to the other side where he’d seen the other contestants go after their performances.

He smiled hearing the scores. Although he would have given Prowl a perfect ten, a combined score of 9.6 wasn’t bad, one of the highest of the night actually.

Jazz slipped through the door into a hallway. There was another door immediately to the left. A small green mech, the next dancer, Jazz guessed was waiting just inside. Inside, he recognized a few of the previous dancers so he knew he was in the right place.

The room was filled with tables and chairs scattered haphazardly around along with a few couches, and a couple vending machines. No one seemed to care that he was there so he went inside.

It was just a klik later that Prowl came in. Jazz couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face, "Prowler!"

Prowl’s helm snapped up, a look of utter shock on his face as Jazz ran over to hug him. "J-Jazz! What are you- how did you…"

"Prowl that was incredible!"

Prowl pulled back, frowning. He looked around for a second, "Come here," he said taking Jazz’s arm and pulling him towards the back of the room.

"I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this! Prowl, why would you keep this a secret? You’re unbelievable," Jazz gushed at him, knowing full well he was grinning like an idiot, but he was just so amazed, and so proud of Prowl right now he couldn’t help it.

"Jazz I’m so sorry," Prowl said when they reached an empty area that was relatively private.

"What? What do you have to be sorry for?"

"For lying to you," Prowl said, looking down.

Jazz just stared at him. "Prowler," he said softly, lifting his chin with a finger. "While we are going to have a long talk about why you would keep your amazing talents from me, you have nothing to be sorry for. That was the most amazing, beautiful, sexiest thing I have ever seen," he said unable to resist kissing him any longer.

Prowl just looked at him, apparently stunned, "You’re not mad?"

"Pfft! Prowl. You think I could be mad at you after that?"

"But I lied to you."

"I really don’t care sweetspark. But… why did you lie?"

Prowl hesitated, "Ribbon dancing… it’s not something that’s exactly popular Jazz. I’ve been doing it for years now. Most mechs just laugh at me when they find out."

"Prowl," Jazz took his hands, taking a steep closer. "Ya really think i would laugh at ya for this?"

Prowl shrugged, "Maybe not. I mean, I know you’re not like that but…"

"But what?" Jazz raised his hand to cup his face, stroking his thumb over his cheek softly.

"I’ve seen you dance Jazz. The way you move is so different. I just didn’t think you would be interested."

"Prowl…"

"I did bring it up once."

"I think I woulda remembered."

Prowl shook his head, "Not that I danced, just ribbon dancing."

Jazz frowned, trying to remember, "What’d I say?"

"That you didn’t know much about it."

"And ya thought that mean I wouldn’t like it?"

Prowl shrugged.

Jazz stared at him for a moment, "I don’t know much about it. But Prowl, it’s art, and it’s movement, and it’s beautiful. Would ya to teach me?"

"I- what?"

"I wanna dance with ya. I have to drag ya out to clubs to go dancing, I know ya don’t like it. But the way ya moved out there, it’s like ya were forged for it Prowler. I wanna dance with ya, the way ya like to."

Something flashed in Prowl’s optics, just for a second. "What is it?" Jazz asked.

"I- nothing. Yes, I mean, if you would like. Or you can sign up for a class-"

"Prowler," Jazz said, knowing he was standing entirely too close to Prowl for a public space, intentionally using that tone that Prowl would never admit turned him on. "What where ya thinkin’ about just now?"

Prowl looked at him, it was hope in his optics, he realized. "Prowl, whatever ya want, the answer is yes."

"If you are really interested in learning, there is a division for pairs-" he said, slowly.

"Yes," Jazz said, without a hint of hesitation, kissing him.

"You really want to dance with me?"

"I’ve never wanted anything more in my life Prowler."

Prowl gave him the smallest smile then, and Jazz realized there may be one thing he wanted more. "Do ya have to stay until the end?" he asked, giving him another kiss.

"I should remain until the announce the winners. Even if I don’t receive an award it’s considerate to congratulate those that do. You don’t have to of course."

Jazz chuckled, "Oh there’s no way you’re not getting an award. Ok," he continued, before Prowl could protest, pulling himself away. "Wanna watch the rest of the show with me then?"

"You would want to?"

"Prowl. Yes," it was somehow simultaneously adorable and exasperating that Prowl just didn’t get how very much Jazz enjoyed rhythmic dance now.

Prowl nodded and Jazz kissed him again. He just had to kiss him. Prowl actually blushed. Jazz kissed him again.

Jazz stepped back with a grin, "Let’s go watch the rest of the show." They held hands as they made their way back out to the bleachers. There were two more ribbon dancers, neither nearly as good as Prowl, though Jazz would reluctantly admit he may be a bit biased in this particular category.

"Do ya dance with anything else?" Jazz wondered as the last dancer was waiting on their score.

"I’ve preformed with each apparatus, although I am most comfortable with the ribbon."

"It suits ya," Jazz said with a smile. "Ya bring that home, right?" he asked.

"Yes, of course. Although I usually leave it in my subspace…"

"So I wouldn’t find it?" Jazz teased.

"Yes."

"Any chance y’d be able to give me a private show sometime?"

"The apartment is rather small. But I can rent a rehearsal space if you would like."

Jazz smiled, "Not, exactly what I had in mind, Prowler," Jazz said, running a hand over his thigh.

Prowl actually looked confused for a klik before realization hit him, "Oh!" His optics brightened a few shades as he looked at Jazz. "Um, yes. If you would like…"

Jazz grinned, learning in, "Oh, I would like," he purred, kissing him, again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven’t already, please please please go check out the original art work that inspired this fic by Vodid on Tumblr. <https://vodid.tumblr.com/post/628298331770273792/praxian-dancing-but-make-it-ribbon>
> 
> Also, comments and kudos are always appreciated! <3


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